


Don't Fall

by LaWren0



Series: The Eighth Circle of Hell [2]
Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: But he loves you and you died once, Gen, Greed equals possessiveness I guess, Other, Protective! Mammon, So he's kinda going through it, and for the survival picnic devilgram story, spoilers for chapter 16 onward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:27:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23327731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaWren0/pseuds/LaWren0
Summary: In which Mammon draws a line in the sand, and intends to catch you if you fall.
Relationships: Main Character/Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Series: The Eighth Circle of Hell [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1659724
Comments: 9
Kudos: 296





	Don't Fall

**Author's Note:**

> I have a WIP for Asmodeus I mean to finish but Mammon demands my attention instead.  
> I tried to experiment with present tense, and made it second person to be gender neutral on this one.

Mammon has always been attentive. He pretends not to be, of course. Yet, even in the beginning when he simply feared Lucifer's wrath, he kept a vigilant watch over you. Then, over time, his duty morphs into love, and his care becomes personal. _'If a demon is gonna attack you, run'_ to _'Oi, human, keep still while I fix these bandages'_ to _'Are you feeling sick to your stomach'_ to _'Take my hand'._

“Careful!” he yells as you slip on the wet rock he'd pointed out as dangerous not two seconds ago. You are fully resigned to fall into the shallow lake as a result, until you are jerked back by Mammon's hand catching yours. He's fast, the fastest of all his brothers, but that only proves detrimental to him here; caught in the momentum he's built to rush over to you, he falls into the water in your place with an obvious splash. 

Well, your picnic is certainly turning into a funny story to tell at parties. You laugh, loud and free as Mammon hauls himself out of the lake, shaking the wet hair out of his eyes like a puppy. 

And then, it begins to rain. 

You both abandon your unsuccessful fishing experience to take shelter under a large tree with a dense canopy of leaves. He notices you shivering almost immediately. “Are you cold? C'mere, move closer to me.” The heat of his body feels like an open fire on a winter's night, more comforting than a mug of hot chocolate. 

When you make it back to the House of Lamentation, partially dry after travel, he orders you to take a warm bath. Mammon puts hot water bottles, plural, into your bed and lays out your fluffiest pajamas. You ask him to stay the night. His cheeks glow pink. 

“You should be honoured the great Mammon is here to keep you warm,” he grumbles half-heartedly as you both settle into bed. He allows you to press your cold fingers and toes into his bare skin. 

That night, he dreams of your death again. 

At breakfast, Belphegor and Lucifer are arguing. The topic is inconsequential - they always seem to eat into the patience of the other lately. You insert yourself into their affairs to keep the peace as you always do. Mammon wishes you wouldn't. 

Your efforts seem to cool Lucifer's annoyance, but not Belphegor's. His cruel streak takes energy to maintain, and is therefore not often on display, but once it rises to the surface it's terrible and persistent. He holds grudges like water is wet. Belphegor turns to you, demanding, “You're taking _his_ side?!” 

Black tendrils of smoke begin to curl up from his skin, diffusing into the already tense atmosphere. 

“Belphie,” Mammon warns, in a tone you've never heard before. Typically, he is ignored. 

Belphegor advances on you, and you rise from your seat in response. He barely comes within ten feet of you before Mammon _snarls._

The room freezes over at the sound. It's feral, infernal, frightening. Mammon steps forward to put himself between you and his youngest brother. “ _Belphegor._ Back. The fuck. Off.”

Your shoulders hunch under the weight of his cold anger, despite it being directed in your favour. Mammon's teeth are bared, and his demeanour radiates agitation. His wings are itching to burst through his skin. There can be no doubt in this moment that Mammon is second only to Lucifer in rank. Even Asmodeus - who is always ready to cut Mammon to the quick with a witty, derisive comment - slides further down into his seat without a word. It seems to be a sharp shock to the younger brothers to be reminded that Mammon has them all beat in terms of raw power. His aura pours out a green tinted gold that glitters, holding flecks of warmth that look as though they could spark and catch fire at the touch. 

Belphegor doesn't dare move. He's stopped releasing his energy into the air, but also maintains furious, stubborn eye contact. He won't let go of a slight against him until he absolutely has to. Mammon growls from his chest in a steady, rumbling stream. Neither are willing to back down, though it's clear who would come out victorious in a fight. 

You direct a pointed look to Beelzebub, who nods seriously. As you take Mammon's hand to try for his attention, the second youngest steps up and tugs lightly on the back of Belphegor's fleece jacket. 

“Belphie, I'm hungry,” Beel says. His twin loosens up some as he turns to him. 

“Sorry, Beel,” he says genuinely, “I didn't mean to ruin your breakfast.”

“Can we go to Hell's Kitchen for food instead?” asks Beelzebub. His eyes are practically sparkling with the promise of multiple cheeseburgers. When Beel gives anyone that look, he is impossible to say no to. Predictably, Belphegor caves. 

“Sure,” he agrees easily. The twins leave together after Belphie grabs his cow print pillow. Only then does Mammon fully relax. Like turning a faucet, his display of power stops. 

You squeeze his hand. He offers you a sheepish smile, though it's obvious he's still on edge. 

“It would be nice,” says Lucifer in an ambivalent manner, “to go just one day without a quarrel.”

“Nice, but not realistic,” you say. 

For the rest of the day, Mammon is even clingier than usual. He remains glued to your side when you visit Majolish for a new wallpaper in the morning, and insists on joining your gaming session with Leviathan in the afternoon. When dinner rolls around, he takes his seat next to you and watches Belphegor carefully. For his part, Belphie seems to have calmed down enough to be truly remorseful. He apologizes to both you and Lucifer, and the eldest brother responds with an apology of his own. Satan casually remarks that miracles do happen after all. 

Mammon wants to stay in your room overnight again. 

“Lucifer will probably know you haven’t slept in your own bed for the past couple of nights,” you warn.

“Eh, whatever,” he replies, “I’ll take the punishment.”

You both lay in companionable silence in the dark. Mammon’s fingers brush against your arm. 

“So, what happened to you at breakfast this morning?” you ask.

You feel him shift uncomfortably as he sighs. He's been anticipating the question. “Y’know. Just, demon stuff.”

“Demon stuff?” 

“I had to let Belphie know he needed to back off in a way he’d understand. That showed everyone I was serious.”

“You could have just said that, though. You didn’t have to throw down the gauntlet so dramatically.”

“No, you don’t get it,” he says, rolling onto his side to face you, “That was a demon thing. How we acted, the sounds we made…it's our language, I guess. I laid down a boundary and he had to respect it. He's not allowed near you until I say so.”

There are so many things to take issue with in his explanation that you aren't sure where to begin. “Hold on, let me get this straight. You guys were having this whole conversation that went right over my head?” 

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“And in this little talk you told Belphie to stay away from me. Permanently?” 

“Well, until he gets over his grudge against humans-” 

“That's not for you to decide,” you say, sitting up abruptly. He rises to meet you and puts his hands on your shoulders. 

“Human, don't fight me on this, okay?” he asks, “I know what I'm doing.”

“This concerns _me_ and my relationship with Belphegor. You have no right to intercede. He wasn't going to hurt me!”

Even in the dark, Mammon's scowl is prominent. “Maybe not on purpose. But he still could have. And anyway, he was pushin' his essence all over you, just to make himself feel better!” 

You clutch at your hair in frustration. “I barely know what that means, but my point still stands. It's my problem. If I want your help, I'll ask. Otherwise, stay out of it.”

“That might be how humans do things, but down here it's different, right? I won't let him hurt you again. I had to stake a claim on you, so he'd know that!”

_“Stake a claim?!”_

Furious, you yank harshly at the covers surrounding him. He yelps and his limbs comically flail before he hits the floor. You don't give him time to recover, throwing the duvet from your body and clamouring out of bed. 

“You are unbelievable sometimes!” you state firmly as you switch on the lights. Mammon is still dazed from being kicked out of your bed, his eyes blinking harshly to adjust to the sudden light. “Have you no shame whatsoever? You can't just _do_ that!” 

“Do what?” he grumbles, “Protect you? Lucifer gave you to me - you're my responsibility. I'm _supposed_ to look after you!” 

You exhale a sound of frustration. You tried to be as understanding as you could when it came to the brothers' sins, but this was too much. You had boundaries of your own to maintain. Mammon's greed would simply have to be appeased another way. “You don't get to be greedy over _people_ Mammon! It's not okay! I alone decide whose company I keep. You have zero say in it.”

By this time, he was on his feet and glaring at you, hands on hips. “Even when you're being stupid and reckless?! You always throw yourself into danger just because! You shouldn't have gone anywhere near Belphie in the first place. If you hadn't, he wouldn't have-” 

His throat seems to close up without his permission. Mammon swallows audibly. “He _killed_ you. He killed you and I can't stop thinking about it. I dream about it. I held you as you died and you were in so much pain and I just-” He chokes on a sob, “I don't wanna lose you again.”

Finally, he admits the heart of the issue, and you soften. “Oh, Monnie.” You collect him up into your arms and let him sniffle into your shoulder as you stroke his hair. It's quiet while you wait for him to regain composure. When you think he's ready, you speak, “I remember how it felt to die. It did hurt. I was scared of leaving you, too.” You pull back a little to look him in the eye. “But it won't happen again. Not for a long time. And I'll promise to be more careful if you promise to let me breathe a bit, okay?” 

He nods immediately, “Okay. I'm sorry.”

With that, your weariness doubles and you are more than ready to sleep. You climb into bed and begin to make yourself comfortable when you notice Mammon hovering. 

“Can I still stay tonight?” he asks. 

You smile. “Yes. Turn off the lights, please.” 

He obeys and makes his way over to your bed again, laying down at your side. You cuddle up to him, gladly leeching his warmth. He holds you, and hopes his nightmares will be replaced by this kind of peace. 

“It'll be okay,” you whisper into the dark. He believes you. 


End file.
